


A Lefty Screaming Feelings Into You

by Nobody (Super_NovaGrey)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: There is a few swear words, at like 2am too, hate for southpaws, have fun, i wrote this while pissed at my left handed existence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28052673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Super_NovaGrey/pseuds/Nobody
Summary: Ushijima getting pissed at a teacher who is mad at him for sloppy writing due to his left-handedness. No other thought.
Kudos: 11





	A Lefty Screaming Feelings Into You

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the characters will be OOC, but this is my left-handed self screaming my feelings into you using Ushijima. I feel bad for this dude because he has never once complained about being left-handed and sometimes it makes you feel better, so I'm doing it for him.

It was a warm sunny day when everyone’s thoughts on Ushijima changed forever. It was after school when Mrs. Takeuchi asked him to stay back. 

“Ushijima, I am unable to read your handwriting, do you not just care? You are a good student, but it is impossible to read your handwriting and if you cannot make it neater I will have to drop your grade,” she says.

Tendou and some of the other third years hear the conversation while waiting for him outside of the classroom to go to practice. They are shocked to hear Ushijima blow up on the teacher completely unlike his stoic attitude.

“I’ve tried to explain this to you before! I’m left-handed. I can’t write any neater than this! THIS IS MY GOOD HANDWRITING! YOU THINK I LIKE THIS? NEWSFLASH I DON’T I HATE BEING LEFT HANDED, I’VE TRIED TO CHANGE IT, BUT GUESS WHAT, IT FUCKED UP MY HANDWRITING EVEN MORE! I CAN’T WRITE PROPERLY, I CAN’T DO ANYTHING RIGHT! I KNOW SO PLEASE JUST SHUT UP, I  _ TRIED  _ TO IMPROVE MY WRITING, IF YOU TOOK THE TIME TO TRY AND CARE ABOUT WHAT I HAVE TO SAY THEN MAYBE WE WOULDN’T BE IN THE SITUATION!” with that he stormed out of the classroom.

"So, we gonna do blocking practice today Wakatoshi?" Tendou pipes up from where he stands, for he fears no man, and lacks fear of God.

"Yes, Satori," 

SO, ignoring the huge argument that just occurred, they walk to the gym. 

“Ushijima, do you want me to set to you today? Or do you want to work on serves?” Semi asks as he puts his volleyball shoes on.

“I’d like to work on spikes because I promised to help Tendou with blocking practice,”

Semi nods and they all start warming up. Ushijima throws himself into volleyball rather than thinking about Mrs. Takeuchi being a complete bitch and how he blew up on her. The rest of the team notices immediately and Shirabu is the first one to comment on it.

“Hey, Semi,” he calls, “Is Ushijima okay, he seems more troubled than normal?”

“Yes and no, his teacher was being an absolute bitch to him about his handwriting because it’s kinda sloppy due to being a southpaw.”

“Southpaw?” 

“Someone who is left-handed, it’s a synonym for it,”

“Oh, okay,” with that, the conversation is over and everyone is back to normal-ish. 

By the time practice is over Ushijima still has a lot of rage pent up within his huge giant body. So he walks over to his coach.

“Coach Washijou, may I stay back for a while? I would like to work on my serves.”

“Yes you may,” he hands over the keys, “DOn’t overwork yourself okay?”

“Yes sir,”

Ushijima worked on his serves like he said he would, coaxing his mind into a blank nothingness. Toss, throw, hit, repeat. Toss, throw, hit, repeat. Toss, throw, hit, repeat. Never letting himself cease for more than a minute, because then thoughts start to come, and with thoughts, anger, what you could’ve done to keep you up at night.

So, he kept serving, all in, none out. Until the basket is empty and the sky is dark. He cleans up the gym and puts away the balls. His mind hasn’t settled though, so he starts to run. Hoping to make a quiet space he could usually achieve within the steady rhythm of his feet pounding against the floor, of his breaths as he keeps his breathing steady as not to wear himself out too quickly. 

Once he reaches home, he collapses into bed his mind sufficiently quieted. Drifts off, wakes up, and pretends yesterday never happened. 


End file.
